Christmas 1915
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: Follow up to We Need Each Other. Downton does Christmas.
1. Chapter 1

**Belated, I know. This is something of a follow up to my previous story We Need Each Other but probably possible to read one without the other. In short, after series 1 Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes are now married, William and Matthew have both gone to fight, Matthew was killed last January. Mrs Hughes' nephew has replaced William as a footman. Mrs Crawley has been living in the main house since. Shortly after Lady Sybil eloped with Branson to Manchester. Enjoy.**

Christmas 1915

It was freezing standing on the drive, but at least the sun was out. The light reflected off the thin layer of snow that had fallen the night before. Charles hoped that the motor would be all right, he did not relish the thought of Lady Violet's temper should she have to walk from the Dowager House. He paced back and forth on the door step to try and keep warm. Finally, the motor pulled up and he rushed forward to help the lady descend.

"Merry Christmas, Carson."

"Thank you very much, m'Lady," he replied offering his arm to help her up the step.

"Compliments of the season to Mrs Carson too, that is if I don't see her today."

"I imagine you will, m'Lady. But thank you on her behalf."

They crossed the main hall to the drawing room where the ladies had gathered for the morning. He opened the door.

"Lady Violet, the Dowager Countess."

There was an approving wave from the corner where Lady Grantham and Mrs Crawley were positioned.

"Thank you, Carson. I think we can manage from here."

* * *

The hubbub of activity downstairs was quite a contrast to the good-willed serenity in the main house. It was, however, no less merry below stairs despite the amount of work to be done.

"Merry Christmas, Mr Carson!"

"Thank you Daisy."

The girl smiled as she ran past him, almost tripping over a loose bootlace.

"Daisy!"

The cry rang through down the walls of the servants' quarters with august strength.

"Coming, Mrs Patmore!"

Charles continued on his way. Elsie was in her sitting room. She did not turn around to confirm it was him, no one else had the audacity to burst in without knocking.

"What was Daisy doing in your sitting room?" he wanted to know.

She secured the last strand of hair in place and turned to face her husband.

"Looking for Harry."

"Hm."

He couldn't help but notice that the housekeeper's nephew was becoming rather popular with the girl. Such a thing would be highly improper at such a young age...

You don't think they're walking out, do you?"

She shook her head with confidence.

"She still misses William far too much," was the reply.

He was not altogether convinced.

"I still think we should keep an eye on them," he told her, "Two members of staff...-"

"Taking off and getting married like that- what would people say?" she finished for him with more than a hint of amusement in her tone.

"We were different," he said firmly, "We were old enough to know what we were doing."

"You can say that again."

"And just think of the trouble you would get off that beastly sister of yours if Harry got into any bother."

Pause.

"Point taken, we'll keep an eye on them."

He smiled down on her, she could be a fierce opponent but it was very satisfying to prove a point against her. There was, however, no chance that she would stop being able to read him like a book any time soon:

"Don't look so smug when I have my back turned."

"Merry Christmas, Mrs Carson."

She gave an exasperated sigh.

"Merry Christmas, dear."

* * *

It was a strange experience for a man to take his Christmas dinner at the family table with the man who had once been his chauffeur, Lord Grantham concluded. It was rather a blessing that Mr Branson was so smartly turned out, his hair combed neatly back and talking enthusiastically to Mrs Crawley on his right. If anything, he was grateful for the male company; since Matthew's death Robert had more than once felt slightly outnumbered at the dinner table and his son-in-law's presence was certainly helping matters. He was extremely glad that his mother had sufficiently forgiven his youngest daughter and consented to her and her husband visiting for Christmas. They were certainly a breath of fresh air to have in the house, there was a kind of youthful optimism about them that was effecting the whole house.

"And Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes got married in late Spring."

"Oh, I know that!" Sybil told her mother with a dismissive wave, "I went to see Mrs Hughes- sorry- Mrs Carson last night, almost as soon as I got here."

"Oh certainly! Before she has even seen her own grandmother, she has been round to see half of the servants!"

Lady Violet was still taking the whole elopement affair very badly.

"She's not half the staff!" Sybil told her grandmother calmly, "Though I don't doubt she could still manage it if she was."

"Very true," her mother agreed, "Mrs Hu- Carson!- When will remember that she's changed her name?- is an absolute angel."

"And to think we could have lost her if she'd married anyone other than our own butler!" Robert decided to contribute.

"I still think it's terribly hard on you having to give up two of your rooms," his mother remarked.

Cora was dismissive.

"They were only the old nursery and you can't expect a married couple to live with the rest of the servants- no privacy at all!"

"Quite right, Mama," Edith agreed.

"Anyway," Cora continued, "It isn't as if we're going to ever use those rooms again...-"

She was cut short with a clatter as Sybil sent her glass flying off the table.

* * *

"Right, they're all sorted out upstairs, we should be able to get started."

There was much enthusiasm, Christmas lunch in the servants' quarters was always an experience. A roaring scraping of chairs ensued along with the setting down of numerous dishes. Elsie took up her usual seat next to Charles. On odd fleeting occasions it troubled her that she and Charles had not been married when they were young enough to have children of their own, but times like these made her realise that she already had charges enough and- truth be told- wouldn't swap them for all the world. She smiled Anna passed her a dish of roast potatoes.

Vigorous eating went on for several minutes. There was more noise than usual; a merry buzz of chatter filled the room. Every once in a while she stole a glance at her husband chatting enthusiastically with Mr Mosley and Mr Bates. It was ridiculous that she should still feel shy about doing this- she had, after all, managed to marry the man! He looked very sweet, tinged red in the face from the wine with a paper hat perched jauntily on his head. She smiled before returning to her plate and listening to what Anna was saying about the Christmases she had had at home.

They were alerted by the sound of the back door being closed; no one was expected. Charles looked up with a motion that caused his paper hat to fall off. There was the distinct sound of footsteps coming down the corridor. Elsie glanced at Anna then at Charles; they were both clearly as clueless as she was.

A figure appeared at the foot of the table clad mainly in khaki and bundled in a think woollen scarf not dissimilar to the one Elsie had found herself posting in October. She put her hand to her mouth. It was Daisy who broke the tense silence that had fallen.

"William?"

Somewhere between the two young people a wave of recognition seemed to pass. Before Elsie knew what had hit her the girl had sprung from her chair and thrown her arms around his neck. She shortly let him go, no doubt realising that the eyes of all of the servants were upon them. William, his face glowing, addressed Charles.

"I have a week's leave, Mr Carson," he told his former superior, "I'm sorry, I don't really have anywhere else to go."

Charles nodded.

"Daisy," he told the girl, "Find William a chair. I think we can dispense with formality and allow him to sit next to you."

The staff resumed eating with even greater enthusiasm than before. There was something terribly smug about the way Elsie was smiling at her plate, as if it appreciated that she'd been right about Daisy and William.

* * *

"Damn that bell."

"It was you who said you didn't mind us having one in here," she reminded him.

They were sitting in the sitting room they shared in the old nurseries.

"Yes," he told her, exasperated, "But I thought it would occasionally get you out of my hair rather than vice versa."

"I love you too, Charles."

Having re-done his bow tie he smiled down at his wife and gave her a swift kiss on the head before going to exit.

"I won't be long," he told her.

She sighed, she had been ready for a quiet night by the fire with her husband. She crossed her legs around herself and took up the cup of tea that she had abandoned on his return. Much to her surprise, a tap on the door came.

"Come in?"

It surprised her still further, when Lady Sybil's head appeared around the door.

"I hope I'm not intruding, Mrs Carson."

"Certainly not, Mrs Branson, Mr Carson has just been called out. Knowing him he will be some time."

The girl took an armchair.

"We sound ancient, talking like that," she remarked.

"I _am _ancient," Elsie reminded her with a wry smile, "But I'm used to it. Would you like some tea?"

"No thank you," Lady Sybil replied, "I actually came to talk about something rather specific."

"Oh?"

"The thing is," the girl continued cautiously, "There's something I- Mr Branson and I- need to talk to Mama and Papa about. Rather a delicate matter."

Elsie had a feeling she knew where this was going.

"You see, Mrs Hughes- Mrs Carson, even- I'm pregnant."

Yes, Elsie thought, at least I can claim intuition, if nothing else. There was a pause.

"Ah."

"Precisely."

"Congratulations."

"Mrs Hughes, what on earth will they say?"

"I'm not sure."

**More if you would like. Please review and tell me what you think of it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Boxing Day**

"I'd advise you to tread carefully in there, her Ladyship's been feeling a little light-headed."

Elsie kept her voice low so as their brief conversation- if it could indeed be called that- would not be heard by the party in the room she had just left.

"Dunn't she always?"

"I hardly think, Miss O'Brien, that this is the time for remarks like that!"

The younger woman narrowed her eyes a little in what was not enough of an overt glare to earn a reprimand, but which sufficiently conveyed her distaste for what the housekeeper had said. Elsie straightened her back and made a mental note to work on confidence during disparaging stares and covert glaring.

"Just make sure you keep the smelling salts close at hand," she instructed.

"Of course I will. I'm not completely incompetent, you know."

"I am sure tha-..."

"Is there a problem, ladies?"

Elsie had not heard his approach but was making no complaints about it. The appearance of Elsie's husband seemed both to infuriate Miss O'Brien and knock the wind out of her sails.

"No Mr Carson," she answered with a forced meekness, "I'm just abut to attend to her Ladyship."

Charles nodded firmly to her and indicated with his head to Elsie to follow him. She did so gratefully up the stairs towards their rooms. The sinking four o'clock sun caught in her eyes as they reached the level of the window. Charles waited until they were well out of earshot of the door before speaking.

"They've told her Ladyship, then?" he asked.

Elsie nodded, the memory of the incident making her want to chew her lip as she did when agitated.

"And his Lordship," she confirmed.

"How did they take it?"

Elsie decided to play the optimism card.

"It could have been worse."

"As bad as that?"

They finally reached the floor of their own room.

"Oh Charles, it was terrible!" She surprised herself by verging on wailing it, "You'd think her eloping would have been the biggest shock by far, but no! No, a baby is by far worse than that!"

As she was clearly in full flow- with accompanying gestures- he thought it best to hold the door open for her, else she do herself an injury. She threw herself unceremoniously onto the sofa she let out something between a sigh and a huff and glanced over the back of the sofa at him, standing meekly by the door, clearly waiting for her to calm down.

"I'm sorry my dear," she told him, indicating to the seat next to her to show that it was safe to come near her "What do you think?"

Charles sighed.

"I see your point," he told her.

Elsie raised an eyebrow.

"But?"

"But I can also see why his Lordship would have reason to be worried. After all, consider that Mr and Mrs Branson are surely living on very limited means. He is doubtlessly wondering how they will manage their living arrangements, how an education for the child might be afforded and, what probably weighs most heavily in his mind, if the child is a boy, whether or not they will inherit the estate."

Elsie closed her eyes tightly as if trying to dislodge herself from a bad dream.

"I hadn't even though of that," she told him.

He brushed the strand of hair that had come loose due to to her distractedly pressing her hand into her forehead out of her eyes. The gesture seemed to ground her a little more firmly. Her teeth began instinctively on the inside of her lip.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Sometimes I wish you'd only worry for yourself instead of for the rest of the house."

Her amused inhalation on breath acted as a laugh.

"I'm the housekeeper; it's what I do. But for now I'm only going to worry about the fact that we forgot to make ourselves some tea downstairs. Again."

"Worry about it later."

* * *

"Daisy?"

Daisy span around. It was only William, thank goodness, leaning against the kitchen door in the grey evening light.

"What are you doing in the dark?" he asked her.

"Just getting a glass of water," she indicated to the sink she was standing over, "I couldn't sleep."

"Me neither."

Leaving the door, he took a seat at the servant's dining table. Although most of the most of the times she had seen him since yesterday he had been just as he ever was, in quiet moments like this there was a steely difference about him. It could have been an air of trouble. There were so many things, she supposed, that must have happened since they had seen each other, things of which she had no idea.

"Is it awful there?" she asked.

The brief look he gave her before he altered his expression to a less stern one told her that this was perhaps the wrong thing to have said.

"Sorry!" she back-tracked hurriedly, "You probably don't want to talk about it; it was stupid of me. Forget I asked."

He was looking back down at the table.

"William?"

When he lifted his head, didn't look angry but very tired and old; older than she'd ever seen him. He rubbed on of his eyes as he spoke.

"Yes, Daisy," he told her, "It's pretty bad. I've seen some pretty terrible things."

She listened to him in silence, there was nothing she could thing of to say.

"I was in a trench not far along from the one that Matthew, Mr Crawley, was in when the shell hit. No one in it made it, didn't stand a chance. A hundred meters further to the right and it would be me dead, not him. His mother wants to see me tomorrow." 

"Mrs Crawley?"

He nodded.

"I'm not sure what I'll be able to say to her, I don't even know if she knows how close I was when it happened."

He heaved a sigh. It was this more than anything that made her see how different he had become. Though it had never struck her before, she realised that she had never seen him sigh like that. Only grown men like his Lordship or Mr Carson did that. She looked at him with great concern. He obviously saw this.

"Don't worry about me, Daisy," he told her.

A shrill little laugh of disbelief escaped her.

"How can I not?" she wanted to know, "You're my friend."

He raised his eyebrows a fraction.

"Are you sure you aren't better friends with Harry these days?"

She shook her head quickly.

"Harry and I are _just _friends."

It took him a moment to fully digest what she meant by that, but once he had it was hard not to beam at her.

"Don't worry about me, Daisy," he told her firmly, "Because I'm going to go back there with a strong reminder of what I'm fighting for in the first place."

Her heart suddenly felt as if it was tethered to an enormous balloon. She threw a shy glance at him across the table. She couldn't help grinning when she saw the look on his face.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?"

They both shot to their feet at Mrs Hughes' voice.

"No, Mrs Hughes- I mean, Mrs Carson. We were just... I mean I was just getting a glass...-"

Daisy trailed off. Not only was the housekeeper looking nowhere near as stern as her voice had first sounded, but she was standing there, like Daisy was in her nightdress.

Elsie smiled at the scene before her.

"Can't sleep, William?" she asked.

The young man, for that was undoubtedly what he was now, shook his head. She smiled sympathetically. He had changed a lot since she last saw him and more than his hair being shorter and his being taller. At least, she reflected, he was still getting on well with Daisy. The girl, in his absence seemed to have realised what she was turning her nose up at. She cast a fleeting thought back on the last young couple she had turned a blind eye to, now somewhere upstairs having today announced that they were going to have a baby. Well, at least they were happy.

"Ignore me," she told them finally, "I'm just making some tea."

* * *

By the time Sybil eventually disentangled herself from her family she was looking decidedly dishevelled. As soon as she had let him know that she could manage them by herself, Tom had done what any sensible lad would have and excused himself to go to bed. The trouble, she now informed him, had come not towards the end of the goings-on downstairs, but near the middle. The trouble, not all that surprisingly, had come from Granny.

"She's just being difficult," Sybil assured him, her head still in the wardrobe as she had insisted on sending the servants to bed as she now managed without a lady's maid, "I'm sure she quite enjoys it."

He laughed.

"I can believe that."

Leaving the wardrobe, she got under the covers and lay down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Was it true what you told papa?"

"What? That his new driver is being sloppy when checking the brakes?"

She giggled in spite of herself.

"No," she replied and trying to impress upon him the seriousness of the required discussion, "You know what I'm talking about."

Yes, he did. He stretched his arm around her shoulder.

"That we are stable enough to support our baby? I wouldn't lie to him or to you about something like that."

She cast wary look.

"No, but you'd exaggerate."

Her tone was slighting accusatory, but it did not anger him.

"True."

There was a pause.

"I love you, Sybil. We have just about enough money for the first year, but there's more coming in."

She still looked unsure.

"We will be fine. I promise you."

**More if you would like. I'm a bit nervous with writing for these characters that I'm not as used to, please tell me how I'm doing with them: should I keep going like this or stick to what I know? Please review! **


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